JК
Micah :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 50 из 80He knew I knew, and he knew I'd lied for him. He owed me. I hoped he understood that.
Fox looked from one of us to the other, as if he suspected we were lying, or at least hiding something. He looked at Micah and got a shrug. Fox shook his head and said, "Fine." He looked at us a heartbeat longer, then shook his head, as if he'd decided to let it go. "We're going to be the last to arrive at graveside, Marshal Blake. I don't want to leave the federal judge and the lawyers waiting too long in the middle of a cemetery, so I'll lead the way. I think it will be faster that way."
I couldn't argue the faster part. "Then lead the way, Special Agent Fox."
He gave me one more hard look. It was a good look, as those kinds of looks go. But if he thought I was going to break down and fess up because of a hard look, he was wrong. I gave him a pleasant, even eager face, but nothing helpful.
He sighed and settled his shoulders, as if his shoulder holster chafed. He started off through the cemetery. Franklin fell into line behind him without a backward glance.
Micah and I followed them. Micah had us drop back enough to whisper, "You're having trouble controlling your power tonight, aren't you?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I am."
"Why?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I'm not sure."
"Then should you be raising the dead?"
"I think it will be one of the easier raisings I've ever done. There's so much power."
He grabbed my arm. "Do you even know that you're touching every tombstone as you walk by it?"
I stood there with his hand on my arm and stared at him. "I'm what?"
"You're caressing the tops of the tombstones like you'd stroke a hand through flowers in a field."
I looked at the worry in his face and knew that he wasn't lying, but… "Was I?"
"Yes," he said, and his grip on my arm was suddenly almost painful.
"You're hurting me," I said.
"Does it help?"
I frowned at him, then realized what he meant. The small pain had pushed back the power. I could think about something other than the dead. My first clear thought was fear. "I don't know what's wrong tonight. I really don't. I knew I was gaining abilities from the vampires, but I didn't think it would bleed over to the zombie stuff. I mean, that's my magic, not Jean-Claude's, not Richard's. Mine. Whatever happens metaphysically, it doesn't usually mess with my basic talent."
"Should you cancel tonight?" he asked.
I licked my lips, tasting the fresh lipstick I'd put on after we'd made love.
Fox looked from one of us to the other, as if he suspected we were lying, or at least hiding something. He looked at Micah and got a shrug. Fox shook his head and said, "Fine." He looked at us a heartbeat longer, then shook his head, as if he'd decided to let it go. "We're going to be the last to arrive at graveside, Marshal Blake. I don't want to leave the federal judge and the lawyers waiting too long in the middle of a cemetery, so I'll lead the way. I think it will be faster that way."
I couldn't argue the faster part. "Then lead the way, Special Agent Fox."
He gave me one more hard look. It was a good look, as those kinds of looks go. But if he thought I was going to break down and fess up because of a hard look, he was wrong. I gave him a pleasant, even eager face, but nothing helpful.
He sighed and settled his shoulders, as if his shoulder holster chafed. He started off through the cemetery. Franklin fell into line behind him without a backward glance.
Micah and I followed them. Micah had us drop back enough to whisper, "You're having trouble controlling your power tonight, aren't you?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I am."
"Why?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I'm not sure."
"Then should you be raising the dead?"
"I think it will be one of the easier raisings I've ever done. There's so much power."
He grabbed my arm. "Do you even know that you're touching every tombstone as you walk by it?"
I stood there with his hand on my arm and stared at him. "I'm what?"
"You're caressing the tops of the tombstones like you'd stroke a hand through flowers in a field."
I looked at the worry in his face and knew that he wasn't lying, but… "Was I?"
"Yes," he said, and his grip on my arm was suddenly almost painful.
"You're hurting me," I said.
"Does it help?"
I frowned at him, then realized what he meant. The small pain had pushed back the power. I could think about something other than the dead. My first clear thought was fear. "I don't know what's wrong tonight. I really don't. I knew I was gaining abilities from the vampires, but I didn't think it would bleed over to the zombie stuff. I mean, that's my magic, not Jean-Claude's, not Richard's. Mine. Whatever happens metaphysically, it doesn't usually mess with my basic talent."
"Should you cancel tonight?" he asked.
I licked my lips, tasting the fresh lipstick I'd put on after we'd made love.